Escorts
by myrninxmorganvillevampiresx
Summary: Eren works as an escort, living with Marco and Jean, in a run down apartment. When a stranger finds him passed out in the street, his life becomes entwined with someone he can't possibly hope to understand, but who seems determined to understand him. Possibility of eventual LeviXEren, maybe some other pairings as well. Check it out, and review what you think!
1. Frenimies till the death

**Hey, thanks for taking the time to read this!**

 **I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this, but I know that Mikasa, Armin, Connie, Erwin and Levi are all definitely going to be involved in this story, I'm just not sure how. I want Levi to have a major role though, so he might appear in the next chapter. Possibility of eventual LeviXEren, but not totally committed just yet.** **Please~~~ Review!?**

Grunting. Sweating. Panting.

Eren had to control the wave of revulsion that ripped through him, carefully schooling his features to give the impression of neutrality. The creaky bed hit the wall repeatedly, giving enough noise to make it clear to anyone three rooms away what was occurring. But that was fine, considering the type of hotel they were in. The people in that room were probably doing something a lot worse than what Eren and his "partner" were currently engaged with.

With each wrist handcuffed to the two posts either side of the bed Eren stared up with blank, half closed eyes into the face of the man that was currently pounding into him with merciless force, his face devoid of expression. The chains on the hand cuffs rattled, and Eren knew he would have bruises later. He was already feeling the brunt of the pain caused by the last two hours of sex with the stranger currently riding him, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, so long as he was paid. That was why he did this after all. Why he submitted his body to be repeatedly ravaged by the middle aged, balding pigs that took one look at his pretty face and decided to have some fun.

With a lewd groan, the current middle aged balding pig on top of him came, spilling his seed into Eren, letting it leak out onto the bed. Rolling over and pulling out sharply, causing another burst of pain, he collapsed beside him, breathing heavily. _Probably going to have a heart attack from all the exercise_ , Eren thought bitterly to himself. "Oi, time's up. Get these off" he said out loud, kicking the man beside him half-heartedly, aching too much to inflict any real damage. The man obediently picked the key up from the night stand and undid a cuff, passing the key to Eren to allow him to unlock the other. Rubbing his wrists absentmindedly and sitting up, he glanced at the clock. One in the morning. Not too bad, he thought to himself. He might be able to catch another customer before two.

Grunting, the man held out a wad of notes to Eren, who snatched it before quickly counting. "Alright, we're done here. Don't hesitate to call again" The words tripped off Eren's tongue easily, despite the shiver of horror he felt at the thought of another two hours with that brute. Quickly, he pulled his clothes on, ignoring the various pains from his body, and, shoving the money into his front pocket, exited the room. Walking down the familiar hallway, he opted for the stairs, wanting to get out of the building as soon as possible. He paused only to light a cigarette just inside the doors, then pushed out into the freezing wind, taking a drag as he did so.

Goosebumps erupted all over his body, the thin, albeit long, coat not offering much protection. Dressed in black shorts that accentuated his legs, and a cropped tank top that showed off his stomach and arms, Eren changed his mind, deciding that he had suffered enough tonight and headed home, not willing to get hypothermia by standing in the street for the next hour, even for money. His rundown apartment building wasn't too far away, so he was able to get out of the wind after ten minutes of brisk walking. Climbing the stairs, his legs aching, he reached the floor of his shared apartment, hearing thumping bass from a party somewhere else in the building.

Arriving at his door, he took out his keys and unlocked it, walking into the apartment he shared with Marco, another escort, and Jean, a stripper/bartender at the club down the street. Leaving the lights off and shutting the door behind him, he walked over and lay down on the sofa, lighting up another cigarette and taking a long drag, drawing the smoke right down into his lungs before releasing it, the glow of the cherry illuminating his hand. Guessing by how quite the apartment was, it seemed like the two other occupants were both out. Even as he thought it, Eren heard the door open and the lights flickered on, the brightness causing Eren to throw an arm over his eyes.

"Anyone- oh, Eren, you're already home?" It was Marco, back from his own work. Eren grunted in reply.

"Turn the fucking lights off already, they're killing my head".

"Nope" Marco replied, the lightness in his voice, as always, irritating Eren to no end.

"Tch." Reluctantly, he took his arm away from his eyes and took another puff of his cigarette, blowing the smoke in the direction of Marco when he came around into his line of sight. He swatted at the air, used to Erens antics, and shoved his legs to the floor before collapsing onto the sofa next to him. Eren tsked again, annoyed at being disturbed, deliberately moving his legs back to rest on Marcos lap, and repeated his earlier action with the smoke.

Marco sighed, causing the smoke to swirl in the air, and looked at Eren. "What brings you here so early? I usually hear you get in around four, if not later".

Eren shrugged, not really feeling like explaining. He didn't have to in the end, as the other man's eyes widened and he swore softly under his breath. Frowning, Eren looked at himself. There didn't seem to be anything warranting the uncharacteristic foul language, until Marco pointed out the bruises that were slowly forming on his wrists. Shrugging again, Eren flicked ash onto the floor.

"I don't know why you agree to all that BDSM shit, man" Marco said, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. "I get that it pays more, but I don't think I could ever let those pigs near me with a pair of handcuffs".

Eren closed his eyes, trying to resist the urge to kick the other man in the face. "No one asked you" he snapped instead, stubbing out his cigarette on the coffee table next to the sofa, leaving yet another burn mark that Jean was probably going to yell at him for. He didn't care. Jean always yelled at him, and Eren always tuned him out, then repeated the offending act later, in or outside of Jeans knowledge.

"I know" Marco replied, totally unruffled by Eren's grouchiness, irritating him to no end. Suddenly standing, causing Erens legs to fall to the floor yet again, Marco wandered into the kitchen. "You want a beer?" he yelled through, as Eren stretched his arms over his head, wincing at the pull of his sore muscles. "Sure" he replied, sitting up and running a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in all directions. With the thumping bass of the party still detectable, Eren resigned himself to another night of not going to sleep before five.

Marco reappeared, holding two bottles of beer and another of some cheap, store brand tequila. Setting them all down on the table, he opened his beer and took a gulp before answering Eren's questioning gaze. It was rare for Marco to ever drink anything stronger than beer. Jean and Eren were usually the ones getting shit-faced, which inevitably led to fights, and was the reason behind the various holes and stains all over the apartment.

"Lets just say you're not the only one whose had a rough night" Marco said, a vague answer if Eren had ever heard one. But whatever, it wasn't his business. Now he looked closer he could see that under the freckles, Marco was pretty pale, with black bags under his eyes. Taking the tequila, Eren wasted no time in raising the bottle to his lips and taking a swig, gagging slightly at the taste and quickly opening and chugging his beer to remove it.

They sat in silence for a long while, sharing the bottle between them, until Eren was feeling fairly fuzzy. On his sixth or seventh cigarette, he was sat with his booted feet resting on the coffee table, staring into space, one hand dangling over the arm rest, the other over the back of the sofa. Marco sat angled so he was facing Eren slightly, resting in the corner of the sofa, doing something on his phone. Leaning his head back, cigarette in hand, alcohol causing feelings to surface he usually kept repressed, Eren reflected on how shitty his life had become. Here he was, sitting in a shitty, rundown apartment at three o clock in the morning, sharing a bottle of tequila with a guy that shared his shitty profession of having sex with strangers for money, with a couple hundred bucks in his pocket, forty percent of which was going to go to his shitty boss, if he didn't want to end up stabbed in the street. The other sixty percent was going to pay for rent and other shitty responsibilities that cause too much damn money in the first place. There was a reason there was next to nothing in the fridge, save a pack of beers. Raising his head, Eren took a last drag of the cigarette, before making another burn in front of him.

"Jean's going to kill you" Marco said softly, humour in his voice, the first words either of them had spoken in hours.

Eren shrugged. "Like I care, it just gives him something to complain about. If it wasn't this, it'd be something else just as pointless."

Marco hummed a noncommittal reply, putting his phone down and standing, stretching so his top rode up over his navel, showing off his toned stomach. Dressed similarly to Eren, in slightly longer shorts and a plain black tank top that covered his stomach, Eren let his eyes wander over the others body. Not that Marco was his type, but it was always nice to admire a good body.

As if summoned at that moment, the door was opened, the loud, thumping walk of the man rivalling the party downstairs, and leaving no doubt as to the owner.

"Hey Jean, you-" Marco's voice cut off suddenly, and Eren turned to see what had caused the brunette to stop mid-sentence. He soon saw why, observing a multi-coloured bruise situated right on the man's left eye, which was swollen almost shut. "Don't say a damned thing" he growled at Eren threateningly, whose mouth had just opened, a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue. He said it anyway, standing and coming closer, sensing an ideal opportunity to push Jeans buttons, the alcohol in his system fuelling his desire to get under the other man's skin.

"Let me guess, it was your _charming_ personality" Eren drawled, a smirk pulling up the side of his mouth. "Shut your mouth" Jean growled, bunching his fists threateningly. "I've had enough shit for one night, I am so not in the mood to take more from you, asshole." Eren grinned nastily, itching for a fight. "No?" he asked innocently, still grinning. "It must have been your shitty dancing. I bet someone just hauled your ass right out of the door, to be honest I'm surprised it hasn't happened –"

His words were cut off as Jean rushed him, grabbing a fistful of his top and pushed him against the wall with a thud. Eren's eyes lit up, adrenaline coursing through his system. Marco yelped at the sudden violence and touched Jean's shoulder, trying to get him to calm down, but Jean shrugged him off roughly. Eren could tell by the fire in Jeans eyes the other man wouldn't pass up the chance to beat Eren into a pulp, and Eren laughed raggedly, causing Jean to growl and tighten his grip. "You have no idea," Jean breathed, his face inches from Eren's "The amount of pleasure I would gain right now from smashing your head into the wall. Repeatedly."

Eren stared right back, daring Jean to try it. "Why don't you have a go then?" he suggested, wanting nothing more than to get into a full on, no holding back, fist fight with Jean. The two were always at each-other's throats, but add alcohol and a bad night at work into the mix, and things tended to explode. As they were about to right that second. "Jean!" Marco pleaded, sounding distant to Eren's ears. "Please, Jean, just ignore him! Remember what the landlord said? If we get another complaint we're going to be in serious trouble!"

Now Marco mentioned it, Eren could vaguely remember the land lord, a tall, burly man, visiting their apartment a couple of weeks back, saying something about noise complaints from the latest fight between Jean and Eren. It hadn't been the first time, and the land lord had given them a "final warning". Eren snorted. Like that meant shit. Who cared if they got chucked out? His life couldn't get much worse. Maybe he'd end up murdered in an alley. A fitting end for him, really.

He could see Jean's anger being bottled up, reason reaching his thick head. Eren tsked in annoyance, cheated out of releasing his pent up frustration, as Jean let go of his shirt, turning and stalking into his room, slamming the door with a bang. "Asshole" Eren muttered, rubbing his neck from where it had been banged against the wall. He was surprised when Marco rounded on him. Marco was usually so composed, and Eren had only ever seen him angry a few times.

"Who's the real asshole here?!" Marco hissed, eyes flashing. Eren dropped his hand, blinking. "Jesus, Eren, I'm getting sick of all your shit. I wish you'd just stop and _think_. Stop being such a selfish prick!"

"What the fuck?" Eren said, anger lacing his words, making him yell. "What the fuck have I done?" Marco sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking up and glaring at Eren. It was weird, to see Marco so riled up.

"It's what you don't do, Eren! You don't make any fucking effort to think about anyone else, or the impact your actions have! If we get one more complaint, we're gone! Out! On the streets. You might have some sort of backup plan for that, but I don't, and neither does Jean. We're already working these shitty jobs, managing to scrape by, just trying to live off what we earn, and you don't exactly make it fucking easy!" By this point Marco was yelling, getting in Eren's face, shoving a finger into Eren's chest, hard. Eren wasn't prepared for the stab of guilt that he felt, and covered it up by getting angry. He wasn't supposed to care. He didn't care. If he dragged everyone down around him, it made no difference. That was what happened to everyone that hung around him eventually, after all.

He knocked Marco's arm to the side, stepping out from in front of him, getting some personal space back. "What the fuck are you yelling at me for?" he shouted back, turning to face Marco, his face flushed with anger. "Like I could give a shit about what happens to that prick, thinking he's better than everyone else!"

"At least he's smart enough to think about his future! About the impacts his actions have! I swear Eren, you go around with this attitude like you don't care about anything, and it just pisses me off! If you really don't care about anything, then why are you even here?!"

Eren opened his mouth to shout something back, but couldn't find any words. Future? What future? He slept with people for money - Whatever he managed to save up was spent on cigarettes and alcohol. He hadn't given any thought to his future in a long time. He realised he had fallen into the routine of work, get drunk, argue with Jean, get into a fight, get more drunk, crash out, rinse, repeat. Why was he here? What was the point?

Marco saw the confliction in Eren's face, and sighed, letting go of his anger. Eren wished he could do it as easily as that. Marco was right. He did walk around with an attitude like he didn't care about anything. But that was just a cover used to disguise all the rage, the humiliation, the disgust he felt whenever he saw himself in the mirror. Whenever he saw the green eyes ringed with eyeliner staring back at him, the lips with the sheen of lip gloss on them, the multiple piercings all over his ears. A more gentle expression came over Marco's face, and Eren hated it. He didn't deserve Marco's kindness. He was worthless. Not worth anybody's time. His own parents were disgusted by the sight of him. Before Marco could come out with whatever crap was supposed to make him feel better, Eren turned on his heel and walked into his own bedroom, slamming the door and effectively ending the conversation.

Marco sighed in relief. It looked like maybe some part of his speech had gotten through to Eren. He hated arguing, and for a moment was genuinely scared Eren was going to lash out, but it needed to be said. He had been watching Eren slowly waste his life away for too long.

 **Sorry for the sucky ending, I couldn't really find a good place to stop. Please don't follow/fave without reviewing, and even if you don't fave/follow, please still review! It really helps! :-)**


	2. The Party

**Hey guys, here's another chapter! Thanks to everyone who reviewed/followed, it really means a lot! I have a much better idea of where this tory is going now, and I wanted to use this chapter just to introduce some of the other characters.**

 **I just thought I should point out that I've made Sasha and Hanji sisters (I always thought they looked alike - anyone else?) and the people described in this chapter are roundabout 19 - 24.**

Groggily Eren opened his eyes, blinking in the dim light. He lay still, waiting for the fuzziness to fade from his head. Picking up his phone from the bedside table, he glanced at the time. Half four. He'd slept in later than usual, not that he had any plans for the day. Sitting up, he ran a hand through his hair and stretched, catching sight of the bruises on his wrists as he did so. They were worse than the night before, turning a deep purple and encircling the entire arm. He winced as other aches and pains made themselves known, before pulling the quilt back and stumbling into the living room.

Marco was sat on the sofa, eating a bowl of cereal. Eren's stomach rumbled at the sight of it, as he realised the last time he ate was probably more than 24 hours ago. Marco glanced up with a mouth full of food, and raised an eyebrow. Eren waved him off, letting him know he wasn't going to cause any trouble. For the time being at least. He was too damn hungry.

Clattering was coming from the kitchen, and he spied Jean making some coffee. Padding across the room, he entered the kitchen and opened the fridge, ignoring the other man. He pulled the milk out and grabbed the box of cereal from where Marco had left it on the counter, wiping a bowl down quickly with his t-shirt before pouring the cereal and milk in. He was getting a spoon from the drawer when Jean opened the fridge. "Where's the fucking milk got to?" He said, apparently to himself, as he didn't glare at Eren. Pausing, Eren reluctantly grabbed the milk bottle and held it out the Jean. "Here" he grunted. Jean looked at him, his own bruise now twice as bad as the night before, before taking the milk and continuing to fix his drink. And just like that, the uneasy truce that had been in place returned. Eren could practically hear Marco breathe a sigh of relief from the next room.

Turning and sitting on the sofa he tucked in, starving. Marco had finished, and as he stood Eren noticed he was dressed to go out. Swallowing, he called after him. "You going to that book shop again?". Marco often disappeared for hours at a time to a bookshop that was located a couple of bus stops away. Eren couldn't understand why, never having been much of a reader. He didn't see the point in Marcos trip, considering there was no way he could ever afford even the cheapest book. All their money was spent on rent and booze. He said as much, then nearly choked when Marco produced a crumpled twenty pound note. He could see Jean spluttering as well, the two in mutual silence for once. "Where the hell did you get that?" Jean said, shock evident in his voice. It was rare for any of them to have more than a five pounds in their pockets after paying for all the necessary crap needed to live, if not comfortably, at least decently in the apartment. The money in Eren's pocket was probably the most he was going to have a hold of all month. "You have that much money and you're gonna spend it on a book?" Eren's tone was incredulous. Marco laughed at both of them. "It's called saving up" he teased. "Why wouldn't I spend it on a book? It's what I've wanted for ages" Eren rolled his eyes at the excitement in Marcos tone, turning back and finishing his food. Jean sipped his coffee, eyeing Marco suspiciously. "You're not doing anything stupid to get extra cash?" he asked bluntly. By stupid he meant the kind of stuff Eren did, the 'BDSM crap' Marco had called it, which Jean had no idea he was doing, and if Eren had his way, never would. Marco shook his head. "No, I've just been saving up for a while" Jean hmphed, putting his cup in the sink to be washed later. "Good" he said gruffly.

"Well, I'll see you two ladies later then!" Marco said cheerily, leaving Jean and Eren in the living room together. Jean stretched and took his shirt off, claiming dibs on the shower. Eren shot back a snarky comment, before returning to his own room. Stripping last night's clothes from him, he switched into a pair of worn jeans and a faded t-shirt, putting a hoodie on to ensure Jean wouldn't see the bruises.

There was a loud knocking on the door, and Eren looked at the clock hanging on the wall in the kitchen before opening it. _Right on time_ , he thought. On the other side was the stereotypical image of a street thug. Huge muscles, shaved head, tattoos on his arms, piercings. "Hey Connie, come on in" Eren sighed, pulling the door open wider. "Nah" the so-called thug replied, "I've just come to pick the money up, I've actually got somewhere to be, thanks though" For a street thug, Connie was actually a pretty decent guy, so long as he got the money he came to collect. If not, then… you didn't want to know him. "Oh. Sure." Digging into his back pocket, Eren pulled out the cash and handed it to the other man, who counted out the correct amount and gave the rest back. Eyeing the small amount that was left, Eren flicked through it quickly, before narrowing his eyes and looking to Connie for answers, who shrugged. "Sorry man, boss put the word out this morning that percentages are increasing, nothing no one can do, you know how it works." Eren gritted his teeth and nodded, knowing not to take his anger out on the messenger. Things were already tight as it was, and now… He watched Connie walk down the hallway and round the corner out of sight, seething.

He was briefly distracted by another person walking towards him, from the direction Connie had just left. Walking quickly, dressed in typical coffee-shop attire, his neighbour glanced up and smiled as she caught sight of him. "Hey Mikasa" he greeted her as she neared. Mikasa's apartment was directly opposite Eren's, so they had quickly become friends. "Is everything okay?" she asked him, quick to notice the tense manner he held himself. He shook his head "Nothing to worry about, don't-"

"Is it money trouble?" She interrupted him, worry already in her expression. "I know you don't like admitting stuff like that, but I can lend you money, honestly, I don't mind, I can-" This time Eren was the one to interrupt her. "Mikasa" he said, a hint of a warning in his tone. "It's fine, we can handle it."

He hated accepting charity. He hated the feeling of owing people anything, and Mikasa knew this. It still didn't stop her from forcing various things onto him, or trying to. It could be money one day or a homemade cake the next, she was always trying to get things into Eren's apartment to make life for the three men easier. She sighed at Eren's response, but thankfully dropped it. He especially hated accepting things from Mikasa. She worked as a waitress in the coffee shop in town, and Eren knew the bus fare every day took up most of her spare change. The silence was interrupted by a loud "Mika!". Eren rolled his eyes at Jeans nickname, as the man himself leaned over Eren's shoulder, irritating him to no end.

But Marco's words still rang in his head, so instead of kicking him like he wanted to, Eren simply ducked under Jeans arm and walked back into the apartment, leaving Jean to his obvious attempts to get Mikasa to come on a date. Every time he saw her, he asked her, and she always said no. It had become something normal. Eren wasn't sure why she repeatedly declined his advances, but figured maybe something bad had happened in a previous relationship or something. Hearing the familiar buzz of his phone, Eren walked back into his room and picked it up, seeing a text from Ymir. Ymir lived in the same apartment block as Eren, Jean and Marco, and often held loud parties to which it seemed every person living in a five block radius was in

' _Busy?'_ The text read, " _Party mine in 1 hour, u shud come."_

Eren pondered the invitation. He didn't have work tonight, having paid his dues today. He had planned to just sit around the apartment, watching crap TV or something. His decision was made for him when another text came through.

" _Forgot 2 mention, there's free booze. C u soon."_ Eren grinned. Ymir knew him well.

An hour later, he was standing, beer in hand, in Ymirs apartment. He had been greeted enthusiastically, if drunkenly, by Ymir herself when he'd arrived, having clearly started the party early by herself. She was well known for her parties and there was already a decent crowd. She was currently hanging off Eren, a friendly arm around his shoulders, as she told some story involving cake and police dogs. He could already tell by the size of her eyes and the erratic movements she was making, that there was something other than booze circulating the party goers, but he didn't mention it. Lately she had been throwing more and more parties, apparently just as an excuse to get wasted off her head every night. The party he had been able to hear the night before had probably been her as well. He didn't blame her though, he knew it was just because she was hurting, having gone through a bad breakup with her girlfriend. Ymir and Christa had been an item since before Eren had moved into the building, and he'd always thought Christa was nice, if slightly shy sometimes. The opposite to Ymir, but she seemed to balance the other girl out nicely. Eren didn't know what had happened to cause the breakup, and didn't particularly want to ask, having been kept up two nights in a row by the two arguing, even though the apartments were a floor apart.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when said girl placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek. He grimaced and tried to squirm away, but Ymir had her hands firmly latched onto his shoulders. He laughed as she made an exaggerated smacking sound, ruffling her hair when she let go. "What was that for?" he said, laughing. "You were totally zoning out on me there, man!" she whined, her freckled face flushed with alcohol. "Sorry, sorry" he apologised, running a hand over his hair. She grinned, ruffling his own hair in return, before spying someone else to latch on to and bounding over to them. He chuckled, setting the empty bottle down and walking over to the table with the biggest collection of alcohol he'd ever seen. Settling for picking up another beer, he turned when he name was called.

"Ereeeeeeen!" A warm body collided with his own, causing him to back into the table and almost send multiple bottles flying. As the person pried themselves off him, he saw it wasn't in fact some drunk stranger, but a girl with bright blue hair and a childish grin plastered on her face. "I haven't seen you in forever!" she said, extending the forever. He looked up and saw two men making their way through the crowd.

"Sasha, good to see you. I see you brought Reiner and Bertolt with you too" The girl rolled her eyes, looking like a 13 year old, not the 19 years she actually was. "More like they forced me to bring them! I swear, they make it seem like I can't do anything!" "We know you can do stuff" a voice said, Reiner having reached them. "Remember that time you baked? That was cool."

"Reiner," Bertolt said from the other side of Sasha, "She burned all the cookies she tried to make, and nearly took the house with it." Reiner nodded "Yeah, so we know she can burn stuff."

Sasha launched into the conversation, calling them both idiots, and Eren chuckled at the group's antics. The three shared an apartment a couple of blocks over, and when they weren't fighting, Sasha was either eating or causing an argument over food.

Smiling, feeling happier than he had in weeks, Eren stood by the wall, nibbling at a bowl of crisps nearby. The atmosphere in the apartment was picking up, and he could see several people already wasted. His eyes wandering the crowd, Eren suddenly saw another familiar face. "Hanji!" he yelled, trying to compete with the music so he would be heard. The woman in question turned, and spotted him, grinning manically and shoving her way through the crowd, heedless of the complaints as she barged past. "Eren! I haven't seen you in years!" she shouted in excitement, over-exaggerating as usual. "How've you been? Eating enough? Toilet habits regular?" Eren rolled his eyes, used to the seeming random questions fired at him from the woman with the manic gleam in her eyes. "Sure, I guess. I saw your sister earlier, with Reiner and Bertolt" Hanji perked up, scanning the crowd for the familiar splash of blue amongst the crowd. "Really!? I didn't even know she was coming here!"

"Yeah, she was arguing again, something about burning the house down…" he trailed off as Hanji turned to him, eyes wide. "What?! She did that?" For a moment, Eren was worried, thinking Hanji was going to become some sort of overly-protective mother figure, but was proved wrong when she continued talking. "But that's amazing! I need to find her, get her to tell me exactly what happened…" Her voice grew quitter as she ran off to find Sasha.

Sighing and checking his phone, Eren coughed into his hand as he read the time. Perhaps it was time to head back, get an early night while he could. Marco and Jean were both working, so he would have the apartment to himself for a while. Coughing again, feeling something tugging at his chest, Eren frowned. He hadn't thought the walk last night had been long enough to give him the chills. It probably was better to head home, prevent anything from developing into a serious illness, which could put him in bed for days, losing a lot of money and risking Connies wrath. The last time it had happened, he'd been in bed for three days, and only managed to pay his way out of the streets by giving in and borrowing money from Mikasa. He'd paid it back as quickly as he could, but he still hated that he had to stoop to charity like that.

Pushing off the wall, he found Ymir and said his goodbyes, which took long enough to do so that he was sufficiently tired by the time he opened the door to his apartment, taking him minutes to fall asleep, the tickling in his chest still not quite gone.

 **In the next chapter Levi will definitely make an appearance, so the wait is over! Still unsure as to whether there will be any Levi X Eren in this, keep reviewing and let me know what you think!**


	3. A Stranger's Help

**Right, I had the WORST time writing this paragraph, so please don't judge its quality too harshly! On the good side, Levi is finally here!**

One week later, and Eren had definitely caught the chills. No, that was an understatement. As Eren coughed for the fifth time in maybe two minutes, he winced in pain as his chest constricted, wheezing slightly. Dizziness caused him to grab onto the wall to support himself, and he blinked hard, trying to focus his gaze. It worked, to some extent, and he stood straight, shivering violently as another gust of wind swept through the alley, the entrance of which he was standing at, trying in vain to get a customer. The money from the week before hadn't lasted long, unsurprisingly, and Eren had been stretching his hours, desperate to get it back.

Marco had been constantly on his back, worrying like he was his mom, telling him to put warmer clothes on and to make sure he didn't stay out too long. Eren bristled at the memory. It wasn't like he had a choice. If he could, he'd stay in the apartment, in the semi-warmth that the ancient heaters provided, not standing in the mouth of an alley for hours on end, desperately trying to seduce any passers-by. He hated feeling so desperate, but he was at his wits end. He still needed more money to pay his weekly 'bill', and now, to top it all, he had this fucking cold.

This cold, which Eren had a sinking feeling was much worse than a mere cold, was the main reason he had only managed to get roughly half of the usual amount of money he usually did. The coughing had gradually gotten worse over time, along with a nose that was constantly blocked, and a throbbing headache that Eren could do nothing to remove. Overall, he felt like crap, and it showed. Shuddering now from cold, he decided to move to a different place, hoping the walking might warm him slightly.

He wandered down the streets, taking turns at random, his head too fuzzy to take in his surroundings, or where he was going. He only stopped after five minutes when a particularly bad bought of coughing had him leaning against the wall, gasping for breath, when it was over. His chest felt like it was on fire, and his head was pounding with renewed vigour. Without the support of the wall, he would no doubt have toppled over. He knew he had to go home, there was no way he had the strength. Looked like he was sleeping out tonight, which, regrettably, was something Eren was not a stranger to.

Looking up, he realised he didn't recognise any of the buildings he was next to. He realised why when he took a closer look. He had somehow managed to make his way to the upscale part of town, somewhere Eren had never really ventured into. There was beyond low chances of business here. Well, at least his type of business. This part of town was for the fancy shmucks that drove fancy cars and worked regular, 9 till 5 hours. You could tell it was, as well. Even the streets were clean, no empty bags blowing across the road like urban tumbleweeds, no smashed glass under every lamppost, all of which (that Eren could see) were working. A totally different world. Pushing himself off the wall, he was about to turn and look for some half-sheltered place he could find to sleep, when he heard a voice.

Stopping in surprise, he turned and saw a man. He was standing on the steps of the building Eren had been leaning against, some bank or something. He was dressed smartly, in a suit, but with the jacket folded over his arm and his tie loosened slightly. Eren came to the slow conclusion he was probably some business guy, pulling a late night.

The man frowned, at least his frown became more pronounced, and spoke again. "Oi, I asked if you were alright." Blinking, Eren realised he was talking to him. There was no one else about. He must be. Narrowing his eyes warily, he brushed the man's apparent concern off. He was halfway through saying "I'm fine." When his throat seemed to get caught on the second I. Eyes opening fully, he bent over, leaning on his knees for support, as he hacked out a lung. At least, that's what it seemed. His chest was beyond painful, and Eren would have screamed if he could, but the coughing prevented him. His head was hurting more with each cough, but he couldn't seem to stop. His hands sliding off his knees, he fell onto them, his hands on the pavement, bracing himself. With each breath, his chest and throat burned, and with each cough, he became increasingly worried he wouldn't be able to stop. But eventually he did, breathing hard, his eyes unfocused and struggling to stay steady, even on his hands and knees. He had totally forgotten the man, until a hand grabbed his arm. Flinching back, gravity and dizziness caused him to overbalance and fall, lying on his side, panting.

"It's alright, I was just going to help you up." The voice was gruff, but as Eren looked up, he could see what looked like actual concern in the man's eyes. The guy looked down and swore, before crouching down and holding Eren's arm again. "Come on, you need to get to a hospital." Eren's mind swam, and he had trouble focusing on the words. Hospital…. No, he couldn't go there. Hospitals meant money, and he didn't have any. He didn't realise he had said any of this out loud, until the man responded, pulling on Eren's arm with surprising strength, managing to get him upright before putting his arm around his shoulders and getting Eren standing. "I'm not giving you a choice here, kid" he said, pulling an unresisting Eren with him as he walked forward. "If you're coughing up fucking blood, you're either going to a hospital, or dying. And I'm not in the mood to watch some brat die on the streets just because he's too proud to accept help." Eren was too dizzy and weak to put up much resistance, but he glanced down at the ground when he heard the stranger's words. Blood? He did see a patch of something on the ground, and when he swallowed, causing another jolt of pain to rack his body, he could taste it.

A fresh wave overcame Eren, causing black spots to appear and making the world around him spin, and when he came out of it, he was suddenly sitting in a car, being driven somewhere. _Why am I …. ?_ Eren looked over to his right, seeing a man driving the car. Oh yeah, he remembered now. The man's face was illuminated by the dash lights, but he still couldn't see much about his driver. Shivers racked his body, and Eren lifted his feet up, or tried to. He was just so tired. He didn't even care that he was in a car with a stranger, who could be driving him anywhere. He didn't care that it was Monday, and that Connie would be coming over tomorrow, expecting money that Eren did not have. Closing his eyes, Eren gave in and let the world drift away, only barley feeling the car come to a screeching halt. He fell forward slightly, before thumping back against the seat. Dimly, he heard a car door open, and then close, then silence. It was nice, this silence. It let Eren's mind wander. He wondered if this was what dying felt like. It really wasn't as bad as he had thought. Sinking deeper into oblivion, Eren gave in to unconscious, not knowing, or really caring, if he was going to wake up.

Levi cursed. Here he was, standing in the emergency room of a hospital that was likely _crawling_ with germs, when he should be a home, watching some crappy television show with a glass of wine and unwinding after the god-awful day he had had at work. All for some stupid brat that he didn't even know. He had been leaving work, suitably stressed after having to pull so much overtime, when he had heard what sounded like a dog dying. He had had to look for a minute before he saw the kid. Breathing heavily, he had been standing next to the building. He couldn't see much in the dark, just spiky hair, the glinting of pierced ears, and some sort of long coat. Levi could see from where he was standing the shudders coursing through the kids body, and could see the quick, shallow pants he was taking. It didn't take a genius to work out that the kid was sick. And really bad, if those noises had been anything to go from. He had turned around, about to leave, still not having seen Levi, when words came from his mouth before he could stop them. "Hey, are you alright?" Why was he asking that? It was pretty obvious he wasn't. And why did Levi care? It wasn't his problem. The kid was probably just out late after a movie, walking home, yeah he had a bit of a cold, but it wasn't something an aspr- Levi's thoughts were stopped in their tracks when the kid in question turned around. Now he was facing him, Levi could see how skinny he was. There was no fat, no muscle on those legs. The legs he could see due to the lack of clothes the boy was wearing. He was wearing what had to be the shortest shorts Levi had ever seen, along with a top that Levi didn't have to guess twice about to know it was simply a tank top. Memories started coming to the forefront of Levis mind. Memories he had suppressed for years, memories he really did not want to re visit, memories that were stimulated by the kids appearance, and his obvious job. If it could be called a job. He took all this in in a few seconds, and then that damn brat had decided to choke out a lung on the steps of his work. He had sworn when he saw the blood, gleaming wetly against the pavement, courtesy of the person currently being taken inside the hospital by two nurses. How he had let it get that far without treating it – but Levi stopped himself. He knew full well that the kid he had just brought into hospital probably had less than an hour of Levis wages in his possession. He had said as much when Levi had said he was taking him to the hospital.

A nurse greeted him as soon as he entered, and he could see the kid being placed gently onto a hospital bed and wheeled away. He answered her questions, before filling out a form. Finished filling in his details, he handed it back to the nurse and asked where he could find the patient. Taking her directions, he ended up in a private room, containing a chair and a bed, on which there was an unconscious boy, hooked up to at least three machines. Sighing, Levi approached the bed, running a hand through his hair. Now he was under the bright lights, he could truly see how bad the kid was. Wheezing with each breath, his face was gaunt, bags under his eyes, his body skinnier that Levi could believe. Was he even eating? He was still wearing the coat that Levi had seen earlier, but now he could see it was more of a cardigan than anything. Asleep, his face still looked stressed, frown lines etched into a face too young to have them. Levi grasped the edge of the bed lightly. Damn it, he was actually worried about the brat. A nurse came in, and checked a few of the machines before turning to Levi. "He had a severe chest infection, but soon the medication should start kicking in. I'm amazed he was still walking, I've rarely seen a case this bad before." Levi nodded, looking back at the patient in question. He seemed like a stubborn kid, and it made Levi annoyed, for some reason. Surely he had had friends, family, someone he could have asked for help from? Turning on his heel, he stalked from the room, back to the front desk, determined to give help that could not be turned down.

 **Reviiiiieeeeewwww!**


End file.
